


Tales From The Tower

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Tales From The Tower [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Teenagers, Training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29587974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: Dick's finally returned to Titans Tower, with a new team in tow no less. Watching the kids bond and grow together in a place with so many ghosts gives him a lot of mixed emotions. He could never regret it though.Snapshots of life in the Tower, between s1 and s2. Each chapter has short scenes related to a theme. Tone will range from fluff to light angst.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Garfield Logan & Raven & Jason Todd
Series: Tales From The Tower [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072772
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	Tales From The Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So disclaimer, I've been going through a dry spell for writing lately so while I have bits and pieces for other chapters written, I'm not sure how fast I'll be able to finish them. Ergo: updates could be slow. If you want to see any themes or scenes in particular, let me know and I’ll add them to the list! Maybe it'll pep me up.  
> Unbeta'd so let me know if you spot anything.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> :D

Food was a very important part in being a vigilante. Dick had known this as long as he’d been one. Beyond making sure he was eating a lot, Bruce hadn’t had much advice as he didn’t often think about his meals. Alfred, on the other hand, had said plenty.

In typical Alfred fashion, he had educated Dick, and later Jason, on the key food groups required for an athletic lifestyle. He was also creative with dishes, working around Bruce and Dick’s personal tastes to twist the classics and still give them robust meals. 

On top of that, he was also a wizard when it came to convincing the workaholics to pause for long enough in their training or investigation to eat a proper meal.

The thing was, Dick was no Alfred. He could follow recipes fine but had no flair for adapting them to the different teens’ needs. Just thinking about the different tastes and nutritional requirements made his head hurt, leading to strange and unpopular creations like cauliflower pizza.

Jason had apparently picked up a few things, and made perfect pancakes whenever he felt in the mood, but was always annoying when asked to do any cooking, looking to extract favors or bribes for doing it. Sometimes Dick was tired enough to agree but often it was Gar who came to the rescue.

The first time, it had been quite literally a rescue operation. 

“What the fuuhh…?” Dick said, holding up the burnt and bubbling ‘caramel’.

“Are you okay?” Gar asked, pausing on his way to the living area.

Dick just looked up at him, expression and burnt stuff in a bowl enough explanation.

“Ah.” Gar rocked back on his heels. “Do you need any help?”

Dick set the bowl down with an awkward clatter, shoulders slumping. “The video said this would be easy! Easy caramel, it said!”

Gar approached, noticing the microwave door open and yellow stuff dripping out of it.

“Okay, want to explain what you’re doing?” If he sounded a little like Dick when the kids were planning a prank, well, Dick was too disheartened to notice.

“I’m trying to make these caramel biscuits that they do at the coffee shop. It’s way too expensive to buy them all the time but Rachel always gives them this _look,_ ” Dick’s voice rose as he went on, _“_ and I thought I could just make them myself but did I buy ready-made caramel sauce? Well no, because everyone knows that’s not as good as home-made but apparently that was the wrong call!” He took in a deep breath and slumped onto the counter, head in his hands, “I’m so terrible at cooking I can’t even get a two-step recipe right!”

“Whoa, okay!” Gar held up his hands. “It’s okay, I know how to make caramel.” He looked around. “And uh, it’s not by using a microwave. Do you have another can of condensed milk?”

Slowly, Dick raised his head, eyes slightly bloodshot. He nodded to the cupboard and Gar bustled around, grabbing the can and a saucepan. Dick stepped away to give Gar space at the hob, watching as Gar filled the saucepan with water and put the can into the water.

“Oh.” Dick managed.

“I’m guessing you saw some food hack video that said you could microwave the milk into caramel.” Gar said, carefully not looking at Dick as he turned on the heat.

Dick turned away, wetting a dishcloth to start cleaning up the mess of his attempt. “Maybe.”

Gar suppressed his grin at Dick’s sheepish tone. “Larry used to complain about those all the time. Said they were worse than celebrity chef cookbooks.”

“Well I agree those videos are evil.” Dick said, before smiling a little. “What’s wrong with cookbooks?”

“ _Celebrity_ cookbooks.” Gar corrected, searching for the pan lid. “‘More showboating and self-loving than real cooking’ he used to say.”

Dick laughed.

Gar grinned, happy to have reversed Dick’s mood. The water started to boil so he lowered the temperature to a simmer and put the lid on. “We have to keep an eye on it to make sure the water level stays above the can, but otherwise that’s all you need to do.”

“Cool. How long…?”

“About two hours.” Gar looked at the other ingredients of the biscuits. “Plenty of time to prep the rest of this.”

Dick smiled in that small way he had when he was touched by something one of them said or did. Gar himself felt happy; he missed those easy afternoons cooking with Larry.

“Okay, sensei.” Dick joked. “What next?”

...

Gar and Dick’s bonding time was cooking dinner and Dick made sure to have at least a few cooking sessions a week. It was valuable time that let Dick check in with Gar, in case there was anything Gar wanted to say, and evaluate how he was doing as Gar’s caretaker, to see if there was anything Dick needed to say. 

Whilst Gar presented a casual and excitable persona, he was a thoughtful person and had suffered as much as the rest of them. Dead parents, controlling and abusive mentor, trauma from being tortured and experiencing the pure, animal delight in killing.

Most of those things Dick had experience with so was confident in his advice. Although Gar didn’t always react in the same ways Dick had, the acknowledgement of shared experience was sometimes enough to get the message across. Dick thought, or rather hoped, Gar found true comfort in the conversations, or comfortable silences, they’d had. 

Telling Dick about happy memories with his parents seemed to bring Gar joy, his frame animated and expression relaxed; and Gar seemed to like listening to Dick talk about his family with the Circus. It was difficult to tell those stories, knowing most of the people in them were dead, but for Gar, Dick could manage it. 

Tasting another person’s flesh though...killing them in such an intimate and visceral way. That was difficult for Dick to empathize with.

As far as Dick knew Gar had been vegan before the incident, but it couldn’t have helped any previous aversion. 

At first in their cooking sessions, Dick had stayed away from red meats and if they did prepare meat, Dick would do it himself. He had politely ignored the occasions Gar had excused himself to run to the bathroom, merely making mental notes to avoid the trigger food in the future. 

Gar had surprised Dick though, by bringing the issue up himself. Dick had just put the veggie lasagne in the oven when Gar spoke casually.

“Has Rachel mentioned to you her mo- I mean, Melissa’s beef ragu?”

“Uh, maybe?” Dick scratched his chin, sifting through the many conversations about Rachel’s childhood they’d had. Mostly short conversations due to the skeletons in that closet, but still, lots of little tidbits here and there.

“Yeah, apparently it was her favorite food growing up.”

Dick nodded. “Okay.” He looked at Gar and saw the boy’s expression. “You want to make it?”

“Yeah.” Gar confirmed, pulling at his sleeve a little. “I think it’d be good for me too.”

“Oh?” Dick encouraged, shoulders tensing as he sensed a difficult conversation coming.

“Yeah I need...I need to get better at being around raw meat.”

Dick opened his mouth to disagree but Gar’s sharp look cut him off. 

“I’m sick of thinking about it, of it being there in my head all the time.” Gar confessed, gaze tilted downward.

Dick’s stomach twisted and his mind whispered how terrible a team leader he was, how he was failing the kids. 

_No, shut up! Focus on Gar._ Dick told himself.

“Whatever you need.” He said.

Gar nodded, breathing out a little shakily. 

Dick eyed him a moment, before asking. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Not really.” Gar said.

“Okay.” Dick replied, not at all convinced but not willing to push it. He would just be there when Gar was ready.

Rachel and Jason occasionally helped out with dinner but they were never as interested as Gar. So Dick found other ways to spend time with them.

Rachel wasn’t really a morning person, but she’d argued that if Dick was making them all get up at ungodly hours, the least he could do was get them coffee. Over time, she’d started coming with him on the morning coffee run - after Dick had thoroughly, and anxiously, researched the long term effects of coffee consumption in teenagers. 

They didn’t usually talk much, on account of the early hour, but occasionally they would discuss something serious. Typically if one of them was having a hard time or was worried about someone else on the team. 

Dick had initially tried to deny it when he was struggling with something, but Rachel had turned his attempts at counselling the teenagers back on him. 

“There’s no shame in needing help.” She would say, tipping her tea at him and raising a challenging eyebrow. He tried to be more candid after that and nursed the warm feeling her words had given him.

From what could only be Alfred’s influence, Jason joined Dick for afternoon tea. Well, it was commonly referred to as ‘snack time’ as it was just after afternoon training ended and the kids devoured their snacks before freetime. 

Only Jason opted to drink tea with Dick on the balcony though. While neither of them had the skill to make those fiddly mini cakes and pastries of Alfred’s, they did take the time to make a tea pot of loose leaf tea.

“None of that blasted triangle-nonsense.” Alfred would often say as he put down the tea pot. It was a running joke at Wayne Manor, made especially funny as not even Bruce knew what Alfred meant by that. The butler was often asked, but never deigned to explain, merely shaking his head and urging them to drink up.

Dick had first had the idea to continue the afternoon tea tradition at the Tower after a phone call with Alfred. Having hashed some things out with Bruce, Dick’s memories of his time in Gotham had been softening. A huge part of his childhood had been Alfred’s steady presence and Dick was mildly ashamed he hadn’t been checking in with him. So he made an effort to call regularly, something which seemed to please Alfred. 

During one call, Alfred had warned Dick about Jason’s mild allergy to shellfish. Dick had bit his lip to not laugh at the idea that he would ever serve the kids anything as sophisticated as shellfish and promised that he would keep Jason’s allergy in mind. But that had made him ask about things Jason had done with Alfred in Gotham.

Afternoon tea seemed to have been the main thing, though they’d baked together apparently. Shoving down his jealousy, made petty by the fact Dick hadn’t even spent that much time in the kitchen with Alfred when he’d been Robin, Dick had noted to not overstep with Jason. Instead he decided to make tea and keep it an open invitation.

Although squinting a little suspiciously at him, Jason had accepted his offer for tea. Rachel and Gar seemed to sense it was a ‘Bat’ thing and hadn’t intruded. The first time, Jason had sniffed disapprovingly at the bagged tea Dick had made. 

“I hope this isn’t triangle nonsense.” He’d quipped, sending Dick into a fit of giggles.

Since then, they hadn’t looked back: the tea had improved, both in the type of tea they drank and practising the technique. 

They’d made strides in the conversation too. While neither of them brought up things that were bothering them, they did talk about good things: happy memories, cool moments on patrol in Gotham, things they still wanted to do or see in their lives.

It was nice.

...

Mealtimes in general were a great time for team bonding.

“It does not make you weaker!” Gar exclaimed, arms flapping indignantly over his meat-free plate. “Plenty of healthy, _strong_ people are vegans!”

“Yeah, plenty of civilians maybe. But to be a superhero, you need a ‘super diet’.” Jason retorted in that lofty voice he used sometimes with the others; the voice that reminded everyone he had more experience. It amused Dick, but also made him worry that he himself had used it at that age.

Jason’s eyes were twinkling though and Rachel cut in every now and again, changing sides to whoever seemed to have the better arguments and grinning unashamedly.

At first Dick had been wary of the arguing but then he’d read the tone as playful, like Hank and Garth used to mock-fight each other; so he just watched, proud at how they were getting along.

He had to hide a snort as Rachel joked. “I dunno Gar, I don’t think beans are half the food cow is.” 

Gar shook his head in mock-outrage and Jason cheered. The sound transported Dick back to a similar argument years ago about the merits of eating fish and at what point an animal was too intelligent to eat. As someone who could communicate with marine life, Garth had shared some interesting insights with the team. Mostly the conversation had devolved into fish puns though.

“Dick, what do you think?” Jason’s voice pulled Dick out of his reminiscing. “It’s totally bogus, right?”

“Ingest your leaves.” Dick said in a robotic voice, indicating to Jason’s uneaten broccoli.

“Dude, you are spending way too much time on the Internet.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Dick ignored the comment. “Put the leaves in your mouth.”

Rachel giggled and ate a spoonful of broccoli herself. Jason huffed, spooned some into his mouth and chewed obnoxiously.

Gar pointed at him and looked at Dick, silently asking Dick to chastise him. 

Dick shrugged. “He’s eating it.”

Gar huffed. “I’m surrounded by philistines.”

...

Although he struggled with square meals, Dick got the hang of everyone's favorite snacks. Every week when the team went grocery shopping, Dick bought: Reeses Pieces for Rachel, non-gelatin Gummy worms for Gar and literally any brand or flavor of chip for Jason. Despite their vastly different tastes, all the teens went through their personal snacks voraciously, often trying to sneak out to buy more mid-week.

In a stroke of what he considered genius, Dick made sure to buy extra and hide them in the secure vault in case anyone needed cheering up or rewarding for something. The longer they stayed at the Tower, the less the former scenario happened, so the snacks lasted relatively long.

Of course it all backfired after he taught them safe cracking and they broke open the safe to get at their snacks. As proud of them as he was for succeeding, Dick was also worried. They reminded him of himself and the other Titans: the more experienced they became, the more they could use their skills to serve their own interests. And the main interest they all shared was getting out into the real world.

Noble, yes. 

Terrifying, also yes.

Dick hadn’t told them much about the old Titans, a lot of those stories still too tangled with Jericho’s death to be comfortable retelling. They didn’t know why the Titans disbanded or why Dick had resisted even having a partner let alone a new team.

He had frequent nightmares of each of his kids being violently killed. Sometimes when they were training, Deathstroke’s shadow would haunt the corner of Dick’s eyes. He could hardly bear to look at the swords.

Dick knew he would have to tell them eventually. 

But maybe he could wait until they’d mastered this fighting technique, or that hacking skill.

 _Just a little longer_ , he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strange New Planet reference: https://images.app.goo.gl/9kJBTRirCC2CZAuy7  
> I got the debunking food hack recipes from here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eINllOc0hc&ab_channel=HowToCookThat  
> I assume that you can get pyramid tea bags in most places, but for the sake of the fic, none of the Batfam have ever seen a triangular teabag. Alfred is old enough to remember an England before tea bags were popular (they didn’t really take off until the 70s) so is being stuck up about them.  
> Also I meant to keep this light and fluffy but as is often the case with me, the angst crept in.

**Author's Note:**

> Upcoming chapters  
> . Teenagehood (periods, shaving and crushes!)  
> . School (debate on homeschooling/tutors vs enrolling in school/college)  
> . Heroing (discussion about whether to implant the kids with trackers, Bruce’s questionable decisions are mentioned, Dick and Jason talk about the meaning of Robin)


End file.
